Remembering a loved one's spirit in a new way can bring healing and hope.
PUBLISHED October 31, 2018
Diana M. Martin has been an adjunct professor in The Writing and Reading Center
at Montgomery College in Rockville, MD, for over 10 years. She has a MFA in
Creative Nonfiction and has published articles in the areas of parenting,
health and cultural arts. When her husband lost his battle with cancer of
unknown primary, later identified as bile duct cancer, she became the sole
caregiver for their adult son, Alex, who is autistic.
My husband, Dan, died three years ago on Nov. 20, 2015. Every year since then, on his birthday and on the anniversary of his death, I have done something to remember him. This year I am struggling with what to do.
I've given many donations to causes, planted trees and flowers, sent lighted crosses to family to place on his grave site in SD, and even had a play dedicated to him. I've celebrated his commitment to sobriety in private and with a group of his friends. We've raised our glasses to him at holidays. Yesterday at a friend's wedding, I brought a photo of us on our wedding day, more than 25 years ago, so he would be there with me in spirit.
I've given many donations to causes, planted trees and flowers, sent lighted crosses to family to place on his grave site in SD, and even had a play dedicated to him. I've celebrated his commitment to sobriety in private and with a group of his friends. We've raised our glasses to him at holidays. Yesterday at a friend's wedding, I brought a photo of us on our wedding day, more than 25 years ago, so he would be there with me in spirit.
Even at work, Dan's spirit follows me around. As a professor, when one of my students writes about caring for or losing a spouse or family member with cancer, I give a knowing look of empathy and try hold back tears. For our son's 25 birthday, I presented him with one of his father's rings. Alex, our son, is autistic and recently had a hard time identifying his dad in a photo. This made me want to sob uncontrollably. I know it is only a function of his autism, and that his dad's spirit also lives within him. They even look alike and walk the same way. I told a counselor and she agreed, but it was still heart wrenching. If we don't keep a person's spirit alive, is it as if he or she never existed?
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